


Gossip is on the Lunch Menu

by Cinder



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 18:39:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20457638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinder/pseuds/Cinder
Summary: All the Hilltowne college staff know that every Tuesday and Thursday, Harry Greenwood gets dressed up for lunch with Macy Vaughn.One staff member takes more notice of this than the rest, and predictably, chaos ensues.*For the wonderful TheShipSailsItself, who was very patient with me while I tried to work out the ending to this fic.





	Gossip is on the Lunch Menu

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheShipSailsItself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipSailsItself/gifts).

Professor Diana James sat back in her chair, sipped her coffee, and watched Harry Greenwood. 

To be fair, she wasn’t the only one. Most of the occupants of the college staff room was watching him, some discreetly, others not so much. Like the other staff members sharing her table. 

Diana had only been at the college for a few weeks, but the gossip surrounding him had been impossible to avoid. Professor Greenwood was an attractive, intelligent, and well-mannered Englishman. It was no surprise that several of the staff had crushes on him. 

It was also no surprise that they gossiped about his personal life like the young adults they were supposed to be teaching. Despite how old people got, some childish habits never left.

Diana took a sip of her coffee, preferring simply to listen as the staff muttered and chuckled. 

“He always dresses up on Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Professor Rose said, amused. He shook his head. “That’s when Dr. Vaughn takes lunch with him in his office.” 

“Who’s Dr. Vaughn again?” Professor Smith said. “And how can I switch bodies with her?” 

“Dr. Vaughn’s in charge of one of the science labs,” Rose said absentmindedly, watching Harry comb his hair for the sixth time. “Something about…genetics, I think,” he said. 

“I’ve never met her,” Smith said. 

“I guess she’s shy,” Rose said. “But you know my friend, Samantha, whose works in the Physics department? She’s met her, and said she’s insanely intelligent…” and then Diana lost track of the conversation, as the table put their heads together to mutter about any scraps of information they had about Macy Vaughn, trying to make a full picture. 

*

The staff room slowly emptied out, people going to classes and office hours. Eventually, only Diana and Professor Greenwood remained. Diana unhurriedly got up, strolling over to the trash can to deposit her empty cup, then over to the staff room door. As her hand reached the handle, she gently pressed the button to lock the door. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Greenwood finally turn away from the mirror. 

She turned to face him, catching his eye. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “But I didn’t think this conversation was fit for mortals ears.” She smiled, allowing her fangs to emerge. “Not that I’m opposed to their deaths, but honestly, I don’t have the time to clean up all the mess.” 

“But you, Whitelighter. You will die,” she said, feeling her claws growing, her fangs lengthening. “This room is spelled to keep you from orbing, from healing. The only way out is through me.” 

Instantly, the Whitelighter straightened. “And why are you seeking my death?” he asked, eyebrows raised. 

“For my child, and my Alistair.” 

“Alistair Caine,” Greenwood said. Quickly he put together the dots. “Then your child would be -”

“His only worthy child. The first one, the best one,” she hissed, any joy in the hunt gone now that thoughts of Hunter surfaced. “None of that human weakness, that human empathy. I gave him a warrior, born to bathe in fire and feast on pain.” 

The Whitelighter didn’t look too impressed. Instead, he simply sighed, and began taking off his jacket. When that was finished, he moved on to loosening his cuffs. Diana watched, tense, waiting for a weapon to emerge, a spell to be cast. She’d let the Whitelighter make the first move, exhaust himself, then, when he was weak and tired, she’d destroy him. After the cuffs had been loosened, and his shirt sleeves had been rolled up to his upper arms, he glared at her. When she made no move, he began to loosen his tie. 

All of her strategic plans forgotten, Diana gave a scream of frustration. 

“Are you sure you really want to do this?” the Whitelighter asked, as he neatly laid the tie aside, next to his jacket. “After all, Alistair was a murderer, a kidnapper, a psychopath who offered up his children so he could have the Source.” 

Diana screamed with fury, her temper reaching its apex. “Only because he was forced to, because your charges kept interrupting his plans. If they hadn’t come along, then my Hunter would have reigned as his father’s right hand. 

“You will die, Whitelighter,” she said again. “And when your body has been crushed, I will summon your spirit back to this plane so you will have to witness the destruction of your beloved Charmed Ones.” 

At the mention of his charges his shoulders tightened, almost imperceptibly. His eyes hardened, and he strode forward, finally ready to fight. Diana grinned, and waited. 

The Whitelighter made the first move, lunging towards her. She easily dodged his attack. He was only a weak Whitelighter, barely alive for a century. He was no match for her – her age, and the strength she had built up during her thousands of years of life. How, in those thousands of years, she had bonded her soul to her mortal form, allowing it to never age, allowing it to grow stronger with each passing year. She let him hit her, landing the blow and standing back in triumph. She raised her eyebrows, letting him see that he hadn’t even bruised her. 

She sighed, rolling her shoulders, getting ready to pounce. She wished she could draw this out a little longer, but if she didn’t, then his stupid little Charmed One would come looking for him, curious about why he was late to their lunch date. And she wanted to enjoy his death fully, all her attention on him, rather than fighting off a Charmed One. 

She was on him in a heartbeat, flinging him to the ground, throwing herself down on him. Her hands wrapped around his wrists, wrestling with them, flinging him to the ground. Slowly moving them to the floor until he was pinned down. Slowly lowering her face, so he could see her fangs coming closer and closer – 

“Don’t worry,” she said. He was determined to cling to his stupid, useless bravery – his eyes didn’t leave hers. His were full of hatred, but not for what was about to do him, but for what she would do after his body was cold and his throat torn open. “I’ll give your Charmed Ones a better chance of survival. I’ll draw it out, make them suffer for days –“ 

The Whitelighter gave one last heave of strength, but it didn’t matter. Her strength greatly outmatched his. 

She lunged, her fangs aimed towards her throat - 

“Harry!” 

Diana flew off of the Whitelighter, crashing into the wall. She felt to the floor, her forehead cracking on the unforgiving linoleum. She pushed herself up from the floor, and found the intruder was kneeling by Greenwood’s side, gently helping him up into a sitting position. 

It was the eldest Charmed One. 

Diana felt her body tense. She had taken too long, waited too late to attack. If only those damn professors hadn’t spent the last twenty minutes arguing over whether Greenwood looked better in dark blue or black…

If it had been the little time witch or the telepath that unworthy Parker had been obsessed with, she wouldn’t have hesitated to attack. But this witch, the eldest… She had taken on the power of the Source, and survived. 

Diana, in all her thousands of years, had never run from a fight. But there was a line between pride and stupidity, and attacking the former Source host was close to crossing it. Then again, if the witch joined up with her sisters, she would only be more powerful. Maybe it was better to attack her now, while she was surprised, and away from the other Charmed Ones – 

“Are you hurt?” The Charmed One wasn’t even focused on her, she was too busy fussing over her insipid Whitelighter – his head cradled in her hands, then her hands moving down to his shoulders, helping him to slowly sit up. He stared at her, stunned and grateful. A romantic picture, if you liked such things. 

Diana didn’t. 

She slowly crawled backwards, until she bumped against a chair. She curled her hand around one of the legs, then leapt up and threw it at the Charmed One – 

Who immediately deflected the attack. 

The chair flew away from the witch, instead launching itself back at Diana. She screamed, throwing herself to the side just in time. She rolled into a crouch, gazing at the Charmed One with animalistic eyes – concentrating only on her prey, and on the possibility of escape. 

Because she had to admit, if she got the chance, she would escape. She would retreat back to the underworld, come up with a new plan to avenge her son and her lover…

The Charmed One was staring at her, fury in her eyes. Diana hesitated, unsure of what was going to happen. 

Telekinesis. It HAD to be the one with telekinesis. Couldn’t have been the mind reader – She could have killed her eas –

Her lungs were gasping for air before her brain understood what had happened. She clutched her throat, realization hitting her – the witch had cut off her air. 

The Whitelighter was standing next to her now, disheveled but, unfortunately, fine. “She was the mother of Hunter. Shes wants revenge for her son and Alastair.” 

The witch raised an eyebrow. “Really?” 

“That’s what I said,” he replied. 

Diana lunged forward, but was too weak to go far. She fell to her knees, her lungs burning. 

“Do I need an incantation, a potion – anything special to vanquish her?” the witch asked. 

“Not this type of demon. By destroying her corporal form, which she has bound herself to, her soul will be destroyed as well.” 

Diana’s lips curled in a snarl. Destroyed. She wouldn’t be destroyed by this witch, barely a year into her powers. She would – had always – risen up from a near death, ready to gain even more strength and vengeance. She forced herself to her knees, ignoring the black spots that appeared in front of her eyes. 

Macy shook her head, and the pressure on Diana’s throat got even tighter. “You should have known not to mess with my Whitelighter. Or my lunch date.” 

Diana sank to the ground. She tried to let out another snarl, but she had no air left. 

She would be saved any minute now. Something would distract the witch, and then she could escape and – 

The last thing she saw before everything went black was the Whitelighter and witch, hand in hand.


End file.
